A Scandal By Any Other Name-Chapter 201 - Two Hundred And One

Delaney stood in the dark, quiet hallway. She held her breath as she inserted the heavy brass key into the lock of her father’s private study. She turned it slowly. A soft, firm click echoed in the silence.

She pushed the door open, stepped inside, and closed the door securely behind her. She turned the key from the inside, locking herself in. She did not want any wandering servant to stumble upon her.

She struck a match and lit a single, small candle she had brought from her room.

The weak, yellow light slowly pushed the shadows away, revealing the state of the room.

Delaney let out a quiet, disgusted sigh.

The room was incredibly messy, exactly as the kitchen maid had described it. The velvet chairs were pushed out of their proper places. One chair was completely knocked over onto its side. Empty brandy glasses sat on the edges of tables, leaving sticky rings on the polished wood. Books were pulled hastily from the shelves and left open on the floor.

It was a chaotic, disrespectful disaster. But as Delaney looked at the scattered white papers covering the beautiful rug, a cold sense of calm washed over her.

This mess would give her a proper cover. It would help her avoid any suspicion. If Cole woke up tomorrow and saw a few papers moved or a drawer slightly open, he would simply blame himself and his scandalous afternoon with his mistress. He would never guess his niece had been searching through his things.

Delaney set the candle down on the large wooden desk. It was her father’s desk. For a brief second, she closed her eyes and rested her hand on the smooth, cold wood. She missed him terribly.

Then, she opened her eyes and went to work.

She started with the desk. She pulled open every single drawer. She found old bills, farming reports, and letters from Cole’s gambling friends. She found nothing related to the Oakridge silk business. She moved to the side tables, opening small wooden boxes and searching behind framed paintings. Still, she found nothing.

Delaney went on her knees. The wooden floorboards were hard and cold through her soft dress. She carefully picked up and searched all the papers scattered on the floor. She read dates, names, and numbers. She sifted through every single sheet, hoping to find a hidden ledger page or a secret letter from Lord Hawksley.

She found absolutely nothing of value.

Delaney sat back on her heels, wiping a smudge of dust from her forehead. She looked at the tall grandfather clock ticking quietly in the corner of the study.

She had spent two hours in total. She only had three hours remaining before the sleeping medicine wore off and her uncle woke up.

Tired, frustrated, and feeling a deep ache in her knees, she stood up. She walked around the desk and sat down heavily on her father’s old leather chair. The leather was worn and soft.

She raised her head to the dark ceiling. She let out a long, shaky breath.

"What am I looking for?" she asked the empty room.

She did not even know what the evidence looked like. Carcel had said they needed proof of purchase, but what did that mean? A bank note? A letter? A contract? She was searching blindly in a room filled with twenty years of useless history. She needed to find something, but she was completely lost.

As she sat there in the quiet dark, the faint smell of old pipe tobacco lingered in the leather of the chair. It was a familiar, comforting smell.

Slowly, a memory came to her. The dark, messy room faded away.

She saw her seven-year-old self standing at the door. She saw her father sitting behind this exact same desk. The room was bright, warm, and perfectly clean.

It was the night of the last Kingsley ball, before the carriage accident, before the treason charges, before everything came crashing down and ruined her life forever.

~ • FLASHBACK • ~

The grand manor was alive with music and laughter. Faint, lively strains of a beautiful waltz drifted down the hallways, slipping under the heavy wooden doors of the study.

A soft knock came on the door.

"Come in," Arthur Kingsley’s voice boomed. It was a warm, rich, and incredibly kind voice.

Seven-year-old Delaney pushed the heavy door open. She entered the room, her white cotton nightgown swirling around her small legs. The joyful sound of the waltz spilled fully into the quiet study for a brief second before she closed the door firmly behind her.

She walked up to the large desk, her bare feet padding softly on the thick rug.

"Papa," young Delaney said, crossing her small arms over her chest. "Mama is looking everywhere for you. She is angry."

Arthur Kingsley looked up from his work. He was a handsome man, dressed in a very fine, dark evening coat with a crisp white cravat. He had kind hazel eyes, exactly like his daughter’s.

Arthur smiled warmly. He put his quill down on the silver inkstand.

"Don’t worry," Arthur told her, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I will make it up to her. I promise."

He pushed his chair back and gestured for Delaney to come closer. He reached down and picked her up easily in his strong arms. 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶

Delaney giggled as he lifted her high into the air. He placed her gently on his lap and tapped her small nose playfully with his finger.

"She is angry because I am working instead of being downstairs at the ball," Arthur explained gently, smoothing her dark hair. "Your mother loves to dance, and I am being a very poor host tonight."

Delaney looked down at the large, messy pile of papers resting on the desk. She was a very smart child who loved to read. She pointed her small finger at the top of the page.

She read the bold, black heading slowly, sounding out the letters so she would not make a mistake.

"Ship... ping... man-i-fest," Delaney read aloud.

She looked up at her father, tilting her head in confusion.

"But Papa," Delaney asked, "why are you working instead of being at the ball with Mama? The music is very loud and happy."

Arthur let out a soft sigh. He looked at the papers with a serious expression.

He replied, explaining his duties to his young daughter. "The Queen’s silks are on the way from the harbor, Delaney. They are very expensive and very important. I need to make sure they are in good shape, and I need to record exactly who is handling them before they reach the royal tailors."

Delaney looked at the desk again. She noticed two stacks of paper that looked exactly the same.

"Oh!" Delaney said, pointing to them. "But why are there two identical ones?"

Arthur replied, his voice taking on a careful, protective tone. "For future reference. It is always wise to keep a true copy of your own work, my child. Sometimes, men are not honest. It is good to have proof."

Delaney tilted her head the other way. Her young mind did not fully grasp the dangerous politics of trade and the royal court.

"I don’t understand," Delaney admitted honestly.

Arthur laughed. It was a deep, comforting sound. He hugged her small body closer to his chest.

"Soon, my child," Arthur promised softly. "You will understand when you are older. Soon."

Delaney pouted slightly, feeling sad that she was left out of the grand party happening downstairs.

She spoke, looking up at him with wide, pleading eyes. "Can I follow you to the ball, please?" she begged. "I want to see the dancing."

Arthur smiled and kissed her forehead gently.

"No, my love," Arthur replied softly. "It is very late, and this ball is for adults. You need to go to sleep."

He saw the disappointment on her small face, and he quickly offered her a beautiful promise.

"When you come of age," Arthur said, his eyes shining with pride, "your mother and I will throw the biggest ball of the London season for you. It will be so grand that every debutante in the city will be jealous of your beautiful dress and your dancing."

Delaney’s hazel eyes widened in pure amazement.

"Really?" She asked, her sadness instantly forgotten.

"Really," Arthur promised firmly.

Delaney smiled a bright, happy smile. "Okay, I will wait."